


A Little Light Protesting

by FrostyEmma



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Developing Friendships, Eventual Romance, F/M, POV Character of Color, precious dorks talking about food and Star Wars
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2018-12-07 16:38:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11627568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrostyEmma/pseuds/FrostyEmma
Summary: Michelle tore the popcorn bag open. “So that’s the game. Everything is completely normal, and we just carry on in completely normal, cozy, and comfortable ignorance.”“I… uh…” Ned toed the carpet uncomfortably. “Don’t really know what you’re talking about.”Michelle rolled her eyes. “So his aunt definitely doesn’t know he’s been sneaking around as Spider-Man all this time?” She tossed a few pieces of popcorn into her mouth and offered him the bag.Ned eyed the bag as if it were a trap.Michelle had long since figured it out. Of course she had. Peter's not nearly as clever as he thinks he is.(Eventual Peter/MJ, with lots of snark, nerdy conversations, and delicious food along the way.)





	1. Awkward Family Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> So I enjoyed this movie a lot more than I thought I would, considering I found the original movies _okay_ and the first reboot intolerable. It really came down to the warm and funny portrayals of Peter, Ned, Liz, May, and especially Michelle. I adored Michelle, and so I needed to write something featuring her POV.
> 
> And so here it is. Enjoy!

Peter tucked the phone in his pocket. “I’ve got to go.”

He didn’t add ‘off to do something stupid and dangerous,’ but Michelle was pretty good at filling in the blanks herself.

She leaned forward and fixed him with a look. “Where are you going?”

Not only did he look back at her with an absolute deer-in-the-headlights look, but she couldn’t help but notice that Ned did the same.

Interesting.

Not surprising though.

“What are you hiding, Peter?”

Not that she expected an answer right then and there, but it was fun to watch him squirm. And he was (maybe) kinda cute, if a little on the pasty and clueless side.

Finally she snorted and sat back in her seat. “I’m just kidding. I don’t care.” She waved him off. “Bye.”

Peter practically tripped over his chair to get away. Ned winced in sympathy and then looked back at Michelle with a ‘whaddya gonna do?’ grimace.

Well, the correct answer to that quiz question was ‘nothing.’

“Hey, if Peter wants to go hide in the bathroom and then sneak off somewhere,” Michelle shrugged, “that’s his business.”

Sally frowned. “He’s hiding in the bathroom and then sneaking off?”

Another shrug. “Probably.” 

Cindy wrinkled her nose. “He’s so weird lately.”

“Right?” Flash threw his hands up. “Thank you.”

“Now, now,” Mr. Harrington murmured. “We all have our tummy troubles from time to time. Happens to the best of us.”

Abe nodded. “That’s so true. I once ate an entire box of Dunkin Donuts and then washed it down with a six pack of Mountain Dew and-”

“I can already tell that story has a sad, violent, and very sugary ending.” Michelle tapped her fingers along the edge of her notebook. “So getting back to AcaDec business…”

\---

AcaDec business concluded ninety minutes later, and the correct answer to what Michelle was supposed to do about Peter Parker still remained at a comfortable and politely detached ‘nothing.’

She left school and walked a few blocks to the good bodega (not the bougie one across from the school that wanted like $7 for one Ritter Sport bar - the praline chocolate bar was _good_ and she would probably fight someone over the cornflake bar, but it was the principle of the thing).

And seriously, what was she supposed to do about Peter anyway?

If he was going to sneak off the morning of Decathlon (and if that little surprise wasn’t super obvious to anyone who cared to pay attention) and literally run out of the gym two seconds after bringing Liz to Homecoming, then he was clearly _very_ deep in his lifestyle, and there wasn’t much to be done for it.

And anyway, it wasn’t really her business.

Which was why she very surprised to find herself stuffing her snacks in her backpack after paying at the register and hurrying out the door when she saw Ned through the windows.

“Hey, Ned.” She held up a giant can of Arizona Iced Tea. “Thirsty?”

Ned actually turned and looked behind him, before turning back to Michelle and pointing to himself. “Me?”

Michelle raised an eyebrow. “You’re the only Ned I see.”

“The bodega owner’s grandson is also named Ned,” he offered. “And so’s his brother.”

Michelle frowned. “The grandson’s brother is also named Ned? Ned and Ned?”

“No, Ned’s brother’s name is Philberto.”

Michelle blew out a breath. “The bodega owner’s brother’s name is Ned?”

Ned nodded. “Yeah, it’s a super common name, you know. A diminutive of Edward or Edmund or even Edorta.”

“Gotcha.”

She filed that bit of information away for later. Who knew when any little tidbit might be useful (especially on AcaDec)?

“So like I was saying.” She proffered the can again. “Thirsty?”

\---

Five minutes later, Michelle and Ned stood packed together on the rush hour train headed toward Peter’s neighborhood.

It was incredible what a can of Arizona Iced Tea and a _World of Warcraft_ temporary tattoo from a gumball machine could accomplish. 

Twenty-five minutes after that, they were climbing the _seven_ flights of stairs to Peter’s apartment.

“So I’m thinking when I’m eighteen,” Ned admired the shiny pandaren tattoo on his forearm, “I’ll get a real one.”

Best fifty cents Michelle ever spent.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get one,” she said.

“You don’t like _Warcraft_?”

“I like it fine, though I prefer _Wolfenstein_.” Michelle shrugged. “I just don’t know if there’s anything I’ll like enough that I’d want it emblazoned on my body for the rest of forever.”

“Well, I want Finn emblazoned on my left calf,” Ned explained, “and Luke Skywalker on my right.” 

Michelle smirked. “What about your ass?”

“Princess Leia on one cheek,” Ned said promptly, “and-”

Michelle held up a hand. “Noping out right here.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.” Ned knocked on Peter’s front door. “What if the answer was Aunt Beru?”

“If the answer was Aunt Beru,” Michelle said, “I’d pay for it myself.”

“Done.” Ned grinned. “Hope you have four hundred dollars laying around.”

Michelle snorted. “Four hundred dollars to watch you get Aunt Beru inked on your ass?”

Of course that was exactly when Peter’s aunt May opened the door.

“Hi, May,” Ned said cheerfully. “Don’t worry, I’m not getting Aunt Beru inked on my-”

“I’m going to stop you right there.” May held up a hand, then looked at Michelle and smiled. “Nice to meet you. Are you talking boys into getting tattoos on their asses?”

“He offered.”

May looked at Ned. “Really, Ned? Aunt Beru?” She waved the both of them inside.

“I was going to say Phasma, okay?” Ned shut the door behind them.

“Phasma?” May snorted. “She had like three lines. At least go for that cute little alien lady with the big eyes.”

“Maz Kanata?” Michelle offered.

May snapped her fingers. “That’s the one.” Another smile. “And can I just say, it’s so nice to see that Peter has some more friends coming around? Even if I don’t know your name, o wise tattoo girl?”

“Michelle.” She licked her lips. Hesitated. “My friends call me ‘MJ’.”

“We’re her friends,” Ned added helpfully.

“That’s cute. Hang on, I’ll get Peter.” Over her shoulder, May added, “And you’re both welcome to stay for dinner. We’re having turkey chili.”

“Score,” Ned whispered, as May disappeared into Peter’s bedroom. “She makes really sweet turkey-”

“What the fuck?” May shouted.

Peter’s stammering reply came immediately. “No - uh - May, it’s not - it’s not what you think!”

Which meant it was exactly what May thought. Michelle shook her head. Only the unprepared used such an unconvincing line. 

“Not what I think? Did you actually say ‘it’s not what I think’?” A high brittle laugh. “What else could I possibly think? What the hell do you think I’m thinking?”

“Well, I think…” Peter actually made sputtering sounds. He was probably visibly cringing. “I think-”

“And hold the bullshit before you tell me what you think I’m not thinking!”

Michelle blew out a breath and looked at Ned, who looked back at her with wide, uncertain eyes. 

“So, uh…” Ned began.

“Looks like we’ve walked into ‘a very special episode’ of the Parker family.” Michelle shifted her backpack around, opened it, and pulled out a bag of Boomchickapop Sea Salt Popcorn. 

“Yeah,” Ned said slowly. “It’s, uh… it’s pretty special, all right.”

Michelle looked at him. “His aunt doesn’t know, huh?”

“Uh…” Ned licked his lips. “Doesn’t know what?”

“Oh, okay.” Michelle snorted. “We’re playing that game. Gotcha.”

“That game?” Ned repeated, a high note of unease in his voice. His eyes skittered toward the bedroom door - Peter and May were still highly engaged - and then back to Michelle.

“That game where we all pretend nobody knows anything and that it’s totally normal to disappear the morning of a national academic competition in another state?”

“Well…” Ned licked his lips. “It happens, right?”

“Sure,” Michelle agreed. “Ditching the girl you also totally have a thing for literally two seconds after you get to a dance is totally a thing that happens too, right?”

Ned made a whiny little “eh” sound in response.

Michelle tore the popcorn bag open. “So that’s the game. Everything is completely normal, and we just carry on in completely normal, cozy, and comfortable ignorance.”

“I… uh…” Ned toed the carpet uncomfortably. “Don’t really know what you’re talking about.”

Michelle rolled her eyes. “So his aunt definitely doesn’t know he’s been sneaking around as Spider-Man all this time?” She tossed a few pieces of popcorn into her mouth and offered him the bag.

Ned eyed the bag as if it were a trap.

“I didn’t poison it.” Michelle ate another few pieces. “Or did I? I didn’t buy it from Other Ned’s bodega.” She looked at him. “Or did I?”

“It’s the grandson that’s named Ned,” Ned said weakly. “The grandson and the owner’s brother.”

“And when we’re you going to tell me?” May continued from the bedroom. “Or were you just going to keep sneaking around, hoping I was too stupid to notice?”

“I don’t think you’re stupid!” Peter said desperately. “I’ve never thought that! I’d never think that. C’mon, May-”

“Oh, don’t you ‘c’mon, May’ me, Peter Parker!”

Michelle raised both eyebrows. “So she really, legit didn’t know?”

“I, uh…” Ned licked his lips again. “I’m pretty sure I don’t… know what you’re… implying.”

Michelle looked at him. Snorted. “Right, you’re like his wingman.” She ate another couple pieces of popcorn. “Protecting his secret identity and disappearing anybody who finds out the truth.”

“Disappearing?” 

“Killing.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Offing anyone who digs too deeply. Looks too closely. Disappearing their bodies without a trace. Maybe dumping them on a pig farm upstate.”

Ned looked like he wanted to drop through the floor.

“Or pulling a Jimmy Hoffa on them.” Michelle tossed more popcorn into her mouth. “Burying their bodies in the swamps of the Meadowlands in Jersey.”

“Dude, that’s…” Ned pulled an awful face. “That’s pretty sick. Did Jimmy Hoffa really do that?”

“No, they did that to Jimmy Hoffa.”

“They?”

“They,” Michelle confirmed. 

Ned raised an eyebrow. “Who’s they?”

Michelle shrugged. “They is they.”

“What, like…?” Ned frowned. “Some ubiquitous ‘they’? A mysterious ‘they’?”

“An ubiquitous, mysterious they.” Michelle nodded. “They dumped Jimmy Hoffa’s body in the swamps of the Meadowlands.” 

“Wow.”

“Or Detroit.”

Ned raised both eyebrows. “The swamps of Detroit?”

Michelle ate more popcorn. 

“Sick,” Ned murmured.

“Very,” Michelle agreed.

“So... “ Ned frowned. “Who’s Jimmy Hoffa?”

“So who gave you the suit, Peter?” May demanded. “Was it Stark? Tony Stark? Because I know you didn’t make this yourself!”

“I, uh…” More desperate sputtering. “Uh…”

“Was that your internship, Peter? Did Stark put you up to this?”

“Oh man.” Michelle shook her head. “It’s like reaching a pinnacle achieved by so few: getting in trouble via the Avengers.”

“Dude,” Ned whispered. “I want them to get me in trouble next.”

Michelle ate more popcorn. “You have to be worthy.” 

The turkey chili was starting to smell like it needed attention, and the Very Special Episode of the Parker Family Drama didn’t sound like it was about to end any time soon.

Michelle set the bag of popcorn down on a side table and walked across the small living room/kitchen combo (in an apartment meant to appeal to hipsters and yuppies, the space would have been referred to as ‘open plan’) to attend to the pot of chili bubbling away on the stove.

It’d be a shame to waste it, after all.

Needless to say, the drama continued, Michelle stirred the chili, and at some point, May burst back into the room, a consternated expression on her face. 

“I forgot you were here,” she said after a moment, wringing her hands and then wiping them down the front of her high-waisted lime green pants. “Not that I’m asking either of you to leave.”

Michelle turned from the stove, spoon in hand. “Chili’s not burnt.”

“It smells good,” Ned added. “Like turkey and spices and family.”

“Family?” Michelle looked at him. “What does family smell like?”

“Togetherness.” Ned shrugged. “Good stuff.” He smiled. “My _lola_ always makes _Pancit Malabon_ around Christmas, and that smells like family.”

“That’s… that’s sweet, Ned,” May said, her expression still pained. “Very sweet. You should make that for us sometime.”

Ned shrugged again. “I can barely fry noodles. I don’t trust myself to do that and not screw up the seafood.”

Peter stumbled out of the room, clad not in any special super suit, but a t-shirt and sweatpants. “Ned?” His eyebrows rose into his hairline in a ridiculous expression of comical surprise. “Michelle… uh… MJ?”

“Right on both counts.” Michelle tapped the chili spoon against the palm of her hand and immediately regretted it. She closed her fist around the smear of chili in her palm. “I am both Michelle and MJ.”

Peter smiled weakly. “How long have you been here?”

“Long enough.” She reached for a towel, right as May said:

“Well, we’re all here, and the chili’s ready, and nobody - and I do mean nobody - is going anywhere until a few things have been figured out.”

Peter’s gaze flitted to Ned, who looked back at him with wide eyes, and then to Michelle.

Michelle smiled.

Awkward family dinner time, ahoy.


	2. Spongebob and Patrick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *stands atop a mountain* I... HAVE... AN UPDAAAAAATE!
> 
> As the MCU has taught us, stay for the notes at the end.

May pinched the bridge of her nose. “Peter?”

Peter looked at her with frozen, wide eyes. “May?”

“Set the table.” May looked at Ned. “Ned?”

Ned likewise had the same deer-in-headlights look. “Yes?”

“There’s iced tea in the fridge. Pour everyone a glass.” May shifted her attention to Michelle. “And you? Tattoo girl?”

“Michelle,” Ned supplied helpfully. “Or MJ.”

Michelle shrugged. “Either/or. ‘Tattoo Girl’ works too.” 

“Serve up the chili.” May blew out a breath. “No one is going anywhere until we’ve had a good old fashioned, pleasant, relaxed family dinner.”

Ned pulled the pitcher of iced tea out of the fridge. “We’ll relax if it kills us.”

“Mandatory relaxing.” Michelle picked up the chili ladle. “I’m game.”

Peter, who mostly looked like he wanted to either fall through the floor or be swallowed up some eldritch god, opened the cabinet nearest the stove and passed Michelle a few bright pink bowls.

“So.” He didn’t make eye contact. “Uh. Hey.”

Michelle ladled a precise portion of chili into one of the bowls. “Hey, hey.”

Peter opened and closed his mouth a few times, sighed, and then wordlessly carted the chili-filled bowls to the table, one by one.

Michelle wondered if he could dramatically sling them to the table via webs, but it didn’t seem like the time or place to ask. 

Maybe later.

Maybe.

They sat around the table, bright pink bowls of chili and tall frosted glasses of iced tea, and not a word was uttered by anyone.

Michelle assumed the real fun started the second she and Ned were out the door. 

\---

After that, nothing happened.

Which, Michelle was willing to admit, was a _little_ extra. It wasn’t like she had been sitting in the corner of her room, staring at the wall for three days. 

Stuff happened.

She nailed a Spanish test. Watched another episode of _Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries_ (because attractive, well-dressed people solving crimes in old-timey Australia really should’ve been everyone’s jam). Tried to make coconut flour pumpkin muffins.

Spoiler alert: Michelle wasn’t any kind of baker. They came out strangely stretchy and spongy, and after two brave attempts to eat one squashy pseudo-muffin, Michelle threw the whole batch in the trash.

But as for anything Peter Parker related?

Well, she wasn’t even sure what, exactly, she wanted to happen, but if the answer was ‘nothing’, then she was ten for ten. 

She stopped at the good bodega after school and was just cracking into a fruit and nut Toblerone bar when Peter dropped down in front of her.

Literally dropped down from the sky and landed lightly on his feet.

“So... “ Michelle took a bite of fruity chocolate triangle. “That happened.”

Peter gestured upward. “I was on the fire escape.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You were just hanging out on the fire escape?”

“It was, you know…” He shrugged. Stuffed his hands in the pockets of his grey hoodie. “It was there.”

“The fire escape?”

He nodded.

“So you just…” She glanced up at the fire escape and back at him. “Hang out on fire escapes?”

Another shrug. “Sometimes.”

She looked at him for a long, silent moment. Enough to make him squirm a little bit. 

He was kind of cute when he did that, in a pale, nerdy sort of way. She didn’t entirely know what to make of that thought, so she said:

“So where’s the Bunsen Honeydew to your Beaker?”

Peter blinked. “What?”

She bit off another chunk of chocolate. “The Patrick to your Spongebob?”

Peter snorted. “You’re comparing me to Spongebob?”

Michelle raised an eyebrow. “Would you rather be Patrick?”

“I don’t know.” Peter’s brow furrowed in nerdy (kinda adorable) confusion. “You’re asking if I’d rather be an anthropomorphic personification of a giant yellow sponge or a hot pink starfish in boardshorts.” 

“And?”

“And I need a moment to think about that.”

“The Mary-Kate,” Michelle pressed, “to your Ashley?”

“Oh, come on,” Peter protested. “I’m not nearly fashionable enough to be Ashley.”

Michelle nodded. “Conceded.”

Peter frowned. “Well, I wouldn’t go so far as to call them conceited.” His frown deepened. “I mean, it’s like they _wake up_ with the smokey eyeliner already in place.”

Michelle snorted. “Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum. And that’s my final answer.”

“Wait a minute.” Comprehension dawned across Peter’s face. “You’re asking about Ned?”

“Ding, ding, ding.” Michelle smirked. “We have a winner.”

She decided to clear off the front stoop of the bodega before the owner yelled at her to take a hike. Peter walked right along next to her. 

“He had a thing,” he offered. 

Michelle glanced at him. “A thing?”

“To do,” Peter clarified.

Michelle chewed on her Toblerone bar.

“So I haven’t seen you,” Peter continued. “For a few days. At lunch. I haven’t seen you.”

Another glance. “Did you miss me? Sitting at my end of the table, reading a book and not talking?”

Peter’s eyes widened at that and he looked down at the sidewalk. Michelle wondered if he’d walk into a street pole, and that prompted her to say:

“Sally and Abe.”

Peter looked at her. “What about them?”

She shrugged. Casually. “They asked me to sit with them. And it’s… it’s kinda…”

“Nice?” Peter suggested.

Michelle nodded.

“Having friends?” he added.

Another nod. “It’s new and, uh, different. So there’s that.”

“Well, it’s... “ Peter chewed on the inside of his lip. “It’s not the same…”

Michelle raised an eyebrow. “What’s not the same?”

“I mean,” he continued. “It’s different.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “Different is the opposite of same.”

“No,” he huffed. “That’s not what I mean.”

“Okay.” She glanced at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Peter stopped walking abruptly. 

Michelle stopped and looked at him. 

Waited.

“I mean…” Peter looked past her. “I wanted to say… it’s just… it’s not…” He blew out a breath and met her eyes. “Do you want a shave ice?”

“A shave ice?” Michelle repeated.

Peter shrugged. “I know this good _patbingsu_ place. They go all out.” Another shrug. “They’ll put it in a melon. Or, like, they have persimmon and maple flavors, and like, even cheese, though that one sounds pretty weird and I haven’t worked up the nerve to try it yet.”

A slow smile spread across Michelle’s face. She almost - _almost_ \- opened her fool mouth and asked if they were going on a date, but she immediately thought better of it. 

Eating popular Korean desserts did not a date make.

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s get a shave ice. No promises on the cheese though."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE THE FIRST  
> So.... SO... I've been so pleasantly overwhelmed with the positive attention this story has gotten so far, despite the ONE PALTRY CHAPTER I have managed to post in SIX MONTHS.
> 
> Well, I really didn't mean to let OMG SIX MONTHS go by, but writer's block + Stucky + a lot of real life stuff = six long, lingering, infuriating months where I really, really wanted to get this updated, but instead the story just kept mocking me from afar as the months spread out further and further into the twilight.
> 
> God, that's so extra.
> 
> Anyway, here is an update. I've already started the next chapter and I have a clear idea of where I want the story to go, so the next update shouldn't take OMG SIX MONTHS. SERIOUSLY.
> 
> NOTE THE SECOND  
> As always, comments and kudos are what make fanfic writers want to keep going. So be generous!

**Author's Note:**

> Questions, comments, concerns, suggestions for cuisine? Fill my box!


End file.
